


through open doors

by greyskiesblack



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Biting, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scratching, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskiesblack/pseuds/greyskiesblack
Summary: Noctis finally has his apartment to himself for a night.Except Prompto returns home early, and everything is horrible. And then amazing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i had this idea a few days ago but today i finally sat down and wrote it while listening to CHVRCHES - Do I Wanna Know? on repeat (and while my friends watched and giggled and didn't stop me)

The hot water cascading down Noctis’ back feels almost as good as having the place to _himself_ for a night. It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ having Prompto around. It’s just that when Prompto is around, he’s always _there_. Always draping himself over Noctis like he’s half-cat, even though Noctis hasn’t met anyone more puppy-like than Prompto.

And it wouldn’t be so bad - the draping, the touching - if it didn’t keep making Noctis’ skin feel like Ignis’ magic was shooting through it, sparking electricity that always ended up in the same place. And telling your best friend that he keeps giving you awkward boners? Yeah, _no_. It's bad enough trying to _hide_ them. Noctis has no intention of bringing them up.

Not that his dick ever seems to care about Noctis’ intentions.

Noctis groans in frustration as his thoughts end up in the exact place he _didn’t_ want them. He glances towards the bathroom door, feeling like Prompto is just beyond it. But he’s gone out on some date with one of the girls from his university classes. Well, Noctis is pretty sure it’s a girl. He hadn’t gotten much from Prompto except for gushing about how cool their photographs were. He’d left with a wink and a wave and told Noctis not to wait up.

It _almost_ made Noctis feel a little jealous. Prompto, awkward, gangly Prompto, could find himself a date on Friday night, and Noctis was alone. In the shower. With thoughts of his best friend sauntering through his head and making his dick half-hard.

Noctis groans again and puts his hand on the tiled wall, pressing his fingers into the porcelain. It’s not like he doesn’t have other things, _better_ things to think of.

He just can’t remember any of them right now.

Maybe it would be better to just get it over with. Maybe Prompto will stop plaguing his thoughts if Noctis just lets himself run wild with them. Once.

He closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting the water run through his hair like fingers. Prompto has the most _infuriating_ habit of toying with Noctis’ hair when they’re on the couch watching television. Every time Noctis gets annoyed enough to ask Prompto to _stop_ , the blond bounces off the couch to get something from the fridge, to use the bathroom. Like he can read Noctis’ mind. And then he’ll come back and start doing it _again_.

Maybe it’s his fault for always lying on the couch and letting Prompto sit by his head.

Maybe it’s Prompto’s fault for always being so distracting.

Noctis groans again, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead. It’s almost _too_ easy to think about Prompto’s face, the wash of freckles that only disappear when he’s embarrassed enough to turn bright red.

Which is pretty much how Noctis feels, thinking about Prompto’s lips, wondering what they’d feel like against his own. He doesn’t even _need_ to imagine Prompto’s hands all over his body, he can just _remember_.

Noctis lets out a shuddering breath, slowly lowering his hand down his face. He can close his eyes and almost pretend it’s Prompto sliding his fingers down Noctis’ throat. _Prompto’s_ fingers splayed out and pressing against his collarbone.

His other hand is twisted in his hair, and part of him wants to lower it all the way down to his hardening cock and end things quickly so he can crawl into bed and try to pretend he wasn’t just jerking off in the shower to his best friend.

But instead he reaches back through his wet hair, twining it through his fingers and _pulling_ it the way he’d pull on Prompto’s hair if he was kissing him. Thinking about how puppy-eager it would be, sloppy and messy and with too much tongue and it wouldn’t even matter because he’d be kissing _Prompto_.

Noctis groans again and slides his other hand further down his chest, digging his fingers into his wet skin the way Prompto digs his fingers into Noctis’ arm when they’re walking home late at night. He can almost _feel_ the weight of Prompto beside him in the shower, leaning against him and muttering about moths and streetlights.

The water feels too hot now, when Noctis had gotten it perfect only minutes before. He drops his hand from his hair and gropes for the handle, turning the water slightly cooler. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s doing, because then he’ll have to _stop_.

He traces gentle fingers over the scar on his back, one of the only places on his body Prompto _hasn’t_ touched. The sensation makes him shiver, and thinking of Prompto’s fingers in the same place makes his breath hitch in his throat.

Noctis slides his hand down his chest, down his stomach. His fingers twitch when they hit hair, and Noctis puts both his hands to his face and groans into his palms.

He _should_ just blast cold water and calm down. Go study more of the reports Ignis has left for him. Go through some of Gladiolus’ drills.

Except he thinks of the way Prompto would _whine_ if Noctis pressed him against the wall and kissed him. How he’d _squirm_ and writhe while Noctis pressed their bodies together, shoved his tongue into Prompto’s mouth. How it would feel to Prompto pressing against him, hot and hard and-

“Oh, fuck,” Noctis groans, squeezing his eyes shut, twisting his fingers through his hair. He’s not even thinking of much more than _kissing_ and he’s achingly hard. And then he _keeps_ thinking, about Prompto shoving Noctis against the wall, pressing him against it and biting his way down Noctis’ neck-

Noctis hisses out a breath as he curls his fingers around his erection. He spent too long being treated like _glass_ , and Prompto’s never acted like the prince is breakable.

He’d probably dig his nails into Noctis’ back, along his spine. Noctis arches, putting his other hand against the wall to stop himself from losing his balance. His hand is moving up and down, water-slicked and _rough_ , and Noctis has to bite his lip to hold in a moan. And he can’t stop thinking about Prompto trailing kisses lower and _lower_ until he gets to Noctis’ pants and how he’d slide them _down_ and look up at him with those bright blue eyes and _grin_.

His hand moves faster as he pictures it. How Prompto’s face would flush, even as he’d lick around the tip of Noctis’ cock, teasing and _awful_ and _amazing_ , and how Noctis would finally get sick of it and he’d push past Prompto’s lips and twist his fingers in Prompto’s hair and _pull_.

And Prompto would suck and slurp and _lick_ and Noctis groans again, squeezing his hands and his eyes and feeling an orgasm building up faster than he’d expected. It’s just been a while, he tells himself, but then he thinks of how Prompto would start bobbing his _head._ Then it’s hard to think at _all_ and his hand is moving faster and faster as he pictures looking down at Prompto’s mouth wrapped around his cock, and how _hot_ and _wet_ it would be, how _amazing_ -

Gods, he was _so close_ , all he needed-

A door slams. “Noooooct,” Prompto calls out, insistently loud.

 _Fuck_.

Noctis turns towards the door, frantically trying to clear his mind enough to see if it’s locked.

The door swings open, and instead of the lock his gaze catches on Prompto’s belt. And then his eyes roam up, up, until they land on Prompto’s sky-blue eyes. Noctis' hand is still pumping his cock, and he’s right on the edge, about to topple over. His imagination is still spinning out of control, thinking of Prompto on his knees and looking up at him-

“Whoa.” Prompto blinks. Stares for what feels like eternity. Holds up his hands. “Whoa, _whoa_!” He scrambles backwards, slamming the door behind him. “S-Sorry!”

Noctis’ brain catches up all at once. Prompto saw him. In the shower. Prompto _saw_ him, and the thought shoves Noctis over the edge even as he tries to back away from it.

He’s so caught off-guard that he forgets to swallow down the moan that winds through him and spills out his throat the same way his orgasm spills out from his throbbing cock. And then Noctis has to remember how to _breathe_ because it’s never been that intense before and then his skin feels both hot and cold at once, because Prompto is on the other side of the door and Prompto could have _heard_ and how the hell is he ever supposed to leave the bathroom ever again?

Noctis squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe it’s better to just get it over and done with. Something like that was bound to happen eventually with two guys practically living together, right? And it’s not like Prompto would _know_ what Noctis was thinking about. _Who_ Noctis was thinking about.

He shifts beneath the flow of water, trying to clear his mind. At least he doesn’t have to clean up the mess. Except he _does_ and it’s right outside the _door_ and Noctis has the urge to bang his head against the tiled wall.

An urge that gets stronger when Noctis finally turns off the water and stumbles out of the shower. He’d tossed his clothes into the hamper, and the only thing he’s got to wear out of the bathroom is a towel. For a minute Noctis stands on the bathmat, dripping and glaring.

It’s not like the conversation is going to be any _more_ awkward if he’s half-naked. And maybe he can get to his room before he runs into Prompto. Yeah.

Noctis steels himself and wraps the towel around himself. His hair drips cold water down his shoulders, and it makes his skin prickle with goosebumps.

All he has to do is walk a few steps down the hallway, Noctis tells himself. It takes two attempts before his legs obey his mind, and Noctis pauses at the door. His breath is trembling as much as his fingers are as he opens the door, and Noctis peeks down the hallway like he’s sneaking out from under Ignis’ watch.

The door to the guest room is cracked open a few inches, and Noctis takes a step towards it before he realizes what he’s doing. But Prompto’s seen him in _less_ , they’ve gone to the baths with Ignis and Gladiolus, and Noctis just wants to hide in his room and never come out but he has to-

He’s gotten to the door before he’s even figured out what it is he has to say. Apologizing isn’t right, not when it was Prompto that walked in on _him_.

“Prompto?” Noctis asks as he pushes open the door.

Prompto looks up, cheeks flushed. Noctis feels himself staring. Can’t _help_ staring. Prompto’s pants are around his knees, his hand in his lap. Wrapped around his cock. His _very erect_ cock.

Prompto makes a noise that’s almost a squeal, reaching for the blankets and covering his lap.

The first thing Noctis thinks of saying is also the dumbest. “Do you want a hand?”

“W-What?” Prompto’s skin flushes even redder, which Noctis hadn’t believed possible.

Noctis can’t exactly reach into the air and snatch the words back, so he shrugs instead, ducking his head so that his hair hides the blush spreading like fire across his own face. He’s not going to repeat himself.

“Uh, Noct…” Prompto trails off, and Noctis can see him looking down. Looking back up. Looking down again. “I-uh.” Prompto’s face looks like it’s about ten seconds from spontaneously combusting. His lips move, but Noctis can’t make out the word.

“What?” He steps closer, slowly. Tentative. He can almost feel the knife edge under his bare feet instead of the carpet.

Prompto looks up, his gaze roaming around Noctis’ face like he’s searching for some answer written on his skin. “Y-Yes?” His voice cracks halfway through the word.

The sound pierces through Noctis’ stomach, straight down to his knees, and when Noctis takes a step forward he stumbles.

Prompto throws his hands up to catch Noctis before he falls, but that just makes Noctis _want_ to fall, to pin Prompto beneath him. He puts a knee on the edge of the bed and frees a hand from Prompto’s grasp so he can grab the blond’s chin and turn his head to where Noctis wants it, where he’s been _wanting_ it for months.

Kissing Prompto is everything and nothing like Noctis imagined it would be. He’s louder, his breath gasping around Noctis’ mouth. And he’s gentler than Noctis had hoped, and it makes him want to fling Prompto against the bed and _bite_ him until he bites back. But he’s afraid, afraid that Prompto will break off and roll away and run out of the room and slam the front door behind him and shove his key into the letterbox and never come back.

“ _Prom_ ,” Noctis breathes between kisses, running his hands through Prompto’s hair and wishing it was longer.

Prompto makes a whining noise in the back of his throat and it’s even hotter than Noctis imagined it would be. His arms snake around Noctis’ back, around his shoulders. His touch is feather-light and Noctis can’t _stand_ it.

He straddles Prompto’s lap and snakes one hand under Prompto’s shirt, tracing a line down his spine. He feels Prompto shiver, and then Noctis repeats the movement, scraping his nails against Prompto’s back.

Prompto arches towards Noctis and lets out a sound that’s half-gasp and half-moan and completely _unfair_. He presses his forehead against Noctis’. “N-Noct.” His voice is as ragged as his breathing. “W-What…”

Noctis has to swallow before he can answer. “Bad?” He can feel Prompto’s breath against his lips, warm and uneven. He’s afraid to look up, to look at Prompto’s eyes.

“No,” Prompto says, sliding his hands up to Noctis’ hair. “I… I’m not going to get into trouble for manhandling you, am I?” His voice is shaky, and Prompto laughs nervously.

“No.” Noctis closes his eyes. “Manhandle away,” he whispers.

He can hear Prompto’s sharp inhale, feel the warmth of his slow exhale. Noctis tenses his fingers against the back of Prompto’s head, his back. He can’t resist digging his nails in slightly, and it makes Prompto arch his back again.

Noctis dips his head and kisses down Prompto’s neck. He licks his lips, nervous. Prompto’s fingers curl in his hair, but he doesn’t pull Noctis’ head away. He _slowly_ sets his teeth against Prompto’s neck. Prompto’s breath hitches, Noctis can _hear_ it, and it hitches again when he bites down, gentle and slow. When Noctis sucks and pulls his teeth away, Prompto moans and twists his fingers harder in Noctis’ hair, like he wanted Noctis to keep going.

There’s a red mark on Prompto’s freckled skin, and Noctis kisses it before lifting his head and kissing along Prompto’s jaw.

“Y-You,” Prompto says, but then he shakes his head slightly and _tugs_ at Noctis’ head.

Noctis doesn't have an answer, can’t even answer, because Prompto is kissing him, kissing him _hard._ His hands are pulling at Noctis’ hair and then they’re scraping down his shoulders and Noctis is the one to gasp and for a second Prompto stops and it’s the worst thing in the world. Noctis kisses him harder and Prompto _scratches_ at Noctis’ back and Noctis arches towards him. Then Prompto is falling back onto the bed and taking Noctis with him and Noctis is having trouble breathing and-

Prompto pulls away and kisses down Noctis’ neck. Noctis shivers and turns his head, and Prompto leans up and _bites_ him. For a second Noctis wants to punch him because it _hurts_ but Prompto is scratching down his back and it’s too _much_ and Noctis groans instead.

“Bad?” Prompto asks, his breath hot against Noctis’ neck.

Noctis shakes his head. “Good,” he says, but his voice comes out in a croak and he has to clear his throat and it feels like the most awkward terrible thing _ever_. “It’s good, Prom,” he says, even though his hand is trapped under Prompto’s back and he’s pretty sure his towel is going to fall off at any second. Even though Prompto has too many _clothes_ and blankets in the way, and Noctis' fingers almost _itch_ with the urge to touch Prompto's skin.

He can feel Prompto smile against his neck. Then another kiss, and another, and Noctis’ breath hitches on each one because he’s _certain_ Prompto is going to bite him again except he _isn’t._ Noctis is about to pinch him but then Prompto _does_ bite him, sucking hard at his skin and making Noctis’ breath catch in his throat and stick there.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters when Prompto kisses the bite mark. He slides down beside Prompto before his arms give out. Except the bed isn’t wide enough for him to lie on _properly_ and Prompto is still hiding under all those _blankets_. He inches his hand forward.

“N-Noct,” Prompto mutters, catching his hand.

“What?” Noctis feels his face heating.

“I…” Prompto trails off, lets Noctis’ hand go. “Close your eyes.”

“I know what you look like, Prompto,” Noctis says quietly.

“I said close your eyes.” Prompto huffs.

“Alright.” Noctis closes his eyes. He even throws his forearm over them for good measure.

He hears cloth rustling, and he feels the weight of Prompto leaving the bed. Hears him shuffle towards the door. Close it. The click of the lightswitch. More rustling. And then a pause, a shaky breath.

Noctis squirms up the bed, finding a pillow and wanting to open his eyes. “Come on, Prom.”

“R-Right.” His voice trembles, but Noctis feels the bed shift as Prompto climbs in beside him.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Noctis teases, taking his arm away from his face and carefully groping torwards Prompto.

“No.” Prompto catches his hand and puts it against his bare chest. Noctis can feel Prompto’s heart pounding underneath his palm, and Prompto’s skin is warm. Hot.

“Okay.” Noctis rolls onto his side. His knees bang against Prompto’s. Bare. His breath catches.

“Okay.” Prompto echoes, and then he shifts closer, until Noctis’ arm is sandwiched between them and the only place they’re not touching is the place he _wants_ to be touching.

Noctis waits. And then waits _more_. He can hear Prompto’s uneven breaths, feel his rapidly pounding heart under Noctis' fingers. “Prompto,” Noctis finally says when he gets sick of waiting. His arm slides under the pillow, under Prompto’s head.

“Y-Yeah?” A hand falls lightly onto Noctis’ face, covering his eyes.

He really should have used that time to think of something to say. “I... “ Noctis clears his throat. He can’t move his head with Prompto’s hand where it is. “I was thinking about you.”

“What?” He feels Prompto lean a little closer.

Noctis squeezes his eyes. “In the shower,” he mutters.

He feels Prompto’s fingers twitch. “Seriously?” Prompto says, and his voice squeaks slightly.

Noctis glares, but it doesn’t have any effect when it’s behind Prompto’s hand. “I wouldn’t have _said_ it if I didn’t _mean_ it.”

“Right.” Prompto chuckles nervously. “Okay.”

He lowers his hand, runs it down Noctis’ shoulder, down his arm. Down to his waist, where it stops, flattens against his back, inches above his scar.

Noctis licks his lips. He wants _kissing_ , damnit-

Prompto’s lips catch his before Noctis even opens his eyes. The kiss is soft and gentle, as though they didn’t have their tongues down each other’s throats a few minutes ago. Prompto’s hand slides down Noctis’ back, impossibly slow.

He _wants_ to roll on top of Prompto and kiss him with all the pent-up frustration that’s been building up for months. Longer. But Prompto’s fingers are _trembling_ and it makes Noctis feel like Gladiolus has knocked the wind out of him except _worse_.

So he settles for moving his hand - slowly - down Prompto’s chest while he kisses back the same gentle, soft way Prompto is kissing him.

Prompto’s fingers stop at the edge of Noctis’ towel. Noctis’ hand stops when it hits Prompto’s navel and he feels Prompto’s muscles tighten under his fingers.

Prompto pulls away and lets out a shaky sigh. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“What for?” Noctis furrows his brow, watching Prompto in the faint illumination from the nightlight by the door.

“I…” Prompto presses his forehead against Noctis’. “Is it really okay?”

“Is what okay?” Noctis asks, feeling like he’s missing something.

“Um.” Prompto wriggles slightly under Noctis’ hand. “This?”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “I’m the one that offered, stupid.”

“Yeah, but-” Prompto cuts himself off. “I didn’t go on a date.”

“Obviously.” Noctis rolls his eyes again.

“No. I mean.” Prompto clears his throat. “It wasn’t a date. I just…” He lets out a wobbly breath. “It felt easier to say it was.”

Noctis can feel that squeezing in his chest again. “Okay?” he says slowly, trying to find Prompto’s eyes. But he’s backlit and it’s hard to tell where he’s looking.

“I-Oh, forget it.” Prompto says.

Noctis is about to protest, but Prompto _rolls_ onto him, pressing against him. Then he’s kissing him and it isn’t gentle or soft at _all_ , and it’s hard to concentrate on anything when Prompto’s got his hands under Noctis’ back and he’s _scratching_ and  _clawing_. Noctis’ hands find Prompto’s bare legs and slide upwards and-

Prompto squeaks when Noctis squeezes his ass, and Noctis can’t help pulling away and smiling against Prompto’s lips. “Cute,” he breathes.

Prompto huffs and then sucks on Noctis’ bottom lip. And then he _bites_ it, the jerk, but Noctis can’t be mad because one of those hands is circling around to Noctis’ stomach. His heart is pounding in his ears and he kisses Prompto _harder_ because he needs the distraction.

He can feel Prompto tugging at the towel, and he has to raise his hips, and then the tugging _stops._ Noctis sucks in a breath and squeezes his eyes shut, because even if Prompto saw him in the shower it isn’t the _same_ when he’s this close. He feels like he wants to find the blanket and tug it over them both.

“Noct…” Prompto’s voice is breathy, and Noctis opens an eye. He’s staring down, and even in the dim light Noctis can see that he’s blushing bright red and there’s barely an _inch_ separating them and an inch is _too much_.

Noctis reaches up and puts his hands behind Prompto’s head and  _yanks_ him down. He presses their lips together even as he’s pressing them _together_ and it makes Prompto gasp and the sound makes Noctis gasp right back. He claws at Prompto’s back and that makes Prompto gasp _again._ Noctis can feel Prompto’s dick twitching against his and he gives up trying to figure out which of them is gasping because it’s both and he can’t _breathe_ -

He breaks away, panting, and Prompto is panting too, leaning his forehead against Noctis’ and wriggling his hands out from underneath him. And Noctis is about to complain, but then Prompto takes a deep breath and turns his head, and the complaint comes out as a moan as Prompto bites at Noctis’ neck. Noctis’ hand slides between them because he can’t _stop_ himself and when he touches Prompto’s cock with a tentative finger Prompto _moans_ against Noctis’ neck. It’s enough to make Noctis squeeze his eyes shut and desperately think of math.

Except he promised a _hand_ and he wants to make Prompto moan again. Noctis wraps his fingers around Prompto’s cock and it makes Prompto shiver. He’s not even kissing Noctis’ neck anymore, just burying his face into his shoulder and panting. Noctis starts stroking, trying to be gentle but every time Prompto shivers against him it makes Noctis’ hand clench tighter, and _that_ makes Prompto moan and dig his fingers into Noctis’ arms and shiver _more_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Noctis breathes, because it's the only word he can think of.

Prompto makes a whining noise and then his hand leaves Noctis’ arm. Noctis is _pretty sure_ he knows where it’s going, but somehow it’s still a surprise when Prompto’s fingers curl tentatively around Noctis’ dick. Their hands are bumping into each other and it feels _so good_ having someone else touch him that for a second or a minute Noctis forgets to move his hand. Prompto bites his neck and Noctis moans and it sounds so loud that he wants to hide his face in a pillow, except Prompto’s hand jerks and _squeezes_ and Noctis doesn’t care if he’s loud anymore if it makes Prompto do _that_.

Noctis remembers he has one hand in Prompto’s hair and he tugs and _pulls_ until Prompto raises his head and lets Noctis kiss him. It’s even messier than he’d imagined but it’s _better_ too, and somehow they’re stroking each other in sync and their panting breaths are mingling together between the kisses. Noctis _just came_ but Prompto’s hand feels so good that he’s pretty sure it doesn’t even matter. When his thumb brushes over the tip of Prompto's cock it comes away wet and Noctis' groan feels like it comes all the way up from his toes.

Prompto is bucking his hips, _grinding_ against him, and Noctis’s vision dims as Prompto’s gasps get louder and _louder._ He buries his face in Noctis’ neck again but Noctis squirms and tugs because _damnit_ he wants his mouth on Prompto’s when he makes him come. And he’s _going_ to come, Noctis can feel it, and he squeezes harder and moves his hand _faster._ Prompto is shivering again and gripping Noctis’ cock almost hard enough to _hurt_ if it didn’t feel so _good_ -

“N-Noct,” Prompto moans, and Noctis shivers because he wanted to hear Prompto whimper his name like that but didn’t know how to _say_ it.

“Prom,” Noctis manages to get out, and it makes Prompto’s hand move _faster_ and Noctis can’t think of anything except the pleasure building and _building._ He finds Prompto’s mouth again, mostly, and it’s hardly even a kiss because they’re just panting and gasping together.

Prompto cries out and mashes their lips together and pulls at Noctis’ hair. Noctis can feel Prompto's dick jerking in his hand and something hot and wet and _sticky_ on his stomach. Noctis realizes that Prompto cried out his _name_ and he moans and he gasps and tries to get out Prompto’s name _too._ But he comes halfway through saying it and his voice gets stuck on the ‘om’ and Prompto’s tongue twists around his and Noctis gives up because Prompto knows what he meant.

 

They don’t move for a few minutes after that. Noctis’ heart is pounding in his ears loud enough to make him certain Prompto can hear it too. But Prompto just groans and rolls off him. Noctis closes his eyes against the sudden _emptiness_ , and then Prompto is haphazardly wiping at Noctis’ skin with a tissue and it’s sticky and gross and he has to try not to shudder. And then Prompto is lying back beside him and Noctis is pretty sure he should get up and have another shower but he doesn’t want to _move_.

“Fuck,” Noctis groans, squeezing his eyes shut. He opens them again and stares at the dark ceiling. Closes them. Even the nightlight feels too bright.

“Maybe later,” Prompto mumbles, nuzzling against Noctis’ shoulder. His fingers twine through Noctis’, his thumb brushing against Noctis’ thigh and making him shiver.

It takes a moment for the words to pierce through the fog in Noctis’ mind. “Wait, what?”

Prompto lifts his head and kisses Noctis’ collarbone. “If you want.” The kiss doesn’t distract Noctis from the way Prompto’s fingers are trembling against his. Or maybe it’s _Noctis_ ’ fingers that are shaking.

Noctis turns on his side so he can face Prompto properly. “You want?” he asks, staring at those temporarily dark eyes and feeling like he’s baring his soul.

Prompto blushes, but he doesn’t turn his head like Noctis expected. “Yes,” he breathes, and for a second the word hovers between them.

Until Noctis moves his head and presses his lips against Prompto’s again. “Yes,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. “Gods, yes.”

He can feel Prompto smiling before he kisses Noctis back, slow and gentle and _perfect_.

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written smut before, so if you made it this far i guess i did alright? ^^;;  
> (please let me know if i should edit/add any tags, i am still terrible at tagging~)


End file.
